


Walking Through Death's Door

by b0r3d_bl0gg3r



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-04
Updated: 2015-02-04
Packaged: 2018-03-10 13:15:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3291644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/b0r3d_bl0gg3r/pseuds/b0r3d_bl0gg3r
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He'd killed for her that night without a single shred of guilt or remorse, and he'd do it again and again to keep her from walking through death's door.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Walking Through Death's Door

It wasn't hard to fight of Jemma's assailants (Bucky would go as far as to say that it was surprisingly easy) what was hard, however, was the gripping anxiety he faced whenever he killed someone to protect her. He couldn't stand the crestfallen expression on her face and he never stayed long to find out what she felt about it either. But he'd killed for her that night without a single shred of guilt or remorse, and he'd do it again and again to keep her from walking through death's door. 

So it was a change of pace when it was Jemma who saved him. 

Left to bleed on the ground after fighting off a group of unstable Russian thugs and a bullet to the guts after exiting a pub, Bucky was surprised to see a petite silhouette a few feet in front of him. Surprised even further by the familiar expression of worry and horror from a pair of brown eyes. 

"Jemma." He whispered, stunned. Jemma came kneeling next to him, muttering profanities he'd only ever heard when she was in crucial pain. And that had been once during her trip to Bahrain. 

Bucky cried in pain when her hand pulled at the one clutching his bleeding wound. He had no reason to hide his pain, Jemma might have been a skilled medic but she had no supplies and Bucky had been bleeding out for a little while now. 

"Stop."

She looked up at him sharply, "Remove your hand please, you have ballistic trauma and I need to tend to it now. I mean why you would..."

Bucky closed his eyes as his right arm fell loosely to his side, he didn't feel like arguing with her. 

Actually, now that he thought about it, he couldn't feel his legs either. 

"Jemma." He muttered feebly, his eyelids feeling like lead. He didn't want to leave Jemma alone with his dead body. 

"...and how did you even get into this state..."

He couldn't shout and he had no energy left to try calling for her attention again. All he could hear was Jemma until her voice grew fainter in his ears, and he heard no more. 

His last thought before he fully lost consciousness was that he hoped he hadn't ruined Jemma's birthday.


End file.
